


Move, Countermove

by wyles77



Series: Better Angels [2]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 03:14:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12099483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyles77/pseuds/wyles77
Summary: Three POVs on the same conversation.  Traynor tries to charm the object of her affections, Shepard wants to distract herself from a worry, and Liara has a dilemma to resolve. Better Angels 'verse.





	1. The Traynor Opening

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need to have read Better Angels to read this, it's nearly fully standalone. I wanted to do some point-of-view practice, so this was how I went about it...

**The Traynor Opening**

 

"Is this seat taken?"

Sam blinks, torn rudely from her daydream by _... oh bugger it._.. the very woman she's daydreaming about. "Oh, Commander, um, sure... I mean no, no, it's not taken, so please, yes, I..."

"I got it, Traynor, relax," Shepard cuts her off, laughing as she slides easily into the seat opposite the comm specialist's. "I promise not to bite."

_Oh no, don't do that, I wouldn't mind if you were to..._ Sam presses a fist to her mouth, trying to get her rebellious thoughts under control before something mortifying slips out. She has to focus in order to not be a tongue-tied idiot.  She has to focus to ignore the sudden flare of arousal deep within her body. "How did the mission go?" she asks, a good, safe topic to buy time to get herself together. Shepard's deep red hair is still damp from her shower, and Sam can smell the faint trace of oranges. _Oh God, she smells so good... no, Sam. Bad girl._

"Fine," Shepard replies, taking a mouthful of pasta salad, oblivious to Sam's inner torment. "Ugh, God, that's terrible. We picked up the turians, as many of them as survived the crash at least. Garrus notched up a Harvester, with a little help from yours truly, and Liara..." Shepard grins almost proudly as she takes another forkful of her lunch, "Liara took out two Brutes in one warp detonation.  It was quite the display of biotic mastery." The Commander pulls a wry face.  "Course, that was when the third one smacked her into a concrete pillar." A deprecating shrug.  "I had to get that one."

"Oh my God, is Liara all right?"

"Yeah, she's OK, just a bit bruised, I think.  She didn't hit her head too hard, but she did crack open her shoulder plate. Chakwas is checking her out, but she's walking and talking." Shepard's gaze keeps flicking across to the shuttered medbay windows as she speaks. "I wouldn't be joking about it yet otherwise."

"Of course, right.  Good," Sam approves, relieved.  Liara's been very kind to her since she came aboard, taking the time to chat, making sure that Sam has every opportunity to come across as an idiot. The asari's grace, elegance and confidence make Sam feel like a clumsy, clod-hopping peasant, and her competence in everything she sets her hand to is somewhat daunting. Sam can't fathom for a moment being able to take out two brutes in pitched combat; she can't fathom even one husk. Like Shepard, the asari seems to operate on some sort of higher state of being than Sam, and the reminder that she's mortal and vulnerable is rather unsettling.  "I'm glad Liara wasn't seriously hurt."

Shepard looks at her intently for a moment, as though she's assessing something, then shovels another forkful of pasta into her mouth, chews, swallows, and breaks into a grin.  "Yeah, me too, Traynor, me too. So, anything interesting happen up here while we were tangling with the heavy mob groundside?"

"Not much.  Reaper activity in the system seems to be confined to the surface of Tuchanka. Admiral Hackett has sent troops to secure the anti-orbital battery, but there's been no chatter on any known Cerberus communications channels." Sam takes a bite of her sandwich.  "The turians are pretty excited about something, though," she mumbles through her mouthful of bread and cheese.  "Even before the mission there was a hell of a lot of traffic, and if anything, it's intensified."  She swallows.  "Mmm, and the encryption was through the roof."

Shepard frowns thoughtfully as she eats her lunch.  "You think they're not telling us everything?"

"I think that's a safe bet," Sam admits. "I'll see what else I can dig up without messing with their encryptions.  Also, we got some data from Hackett on new Cerberus activity out in the Horsehead Nebula."

"Right, we'll need to sort that out, but only when we're done here. Securing this alliance with the krogan is our top priority right now."  She glances at the medbay again, a faint frown creasing her forehead.  Clearly she's worried about Liara, despite her jokes. "Stick it on the galaxy map and I'll take a look later."

"Yes, ma'am." Sam allows herself a moment of geek.  "God, I love that map, it's beautiful.  Do you know how many strategy games are based on that interface?"

This piques Shepard's interest; she nods, eyes lighting up with curiosity.  "Yeah, I've seen quite a few.  You play strategy games?"

"A few," Sam minimizes her biggest hobby casually; she has lost months of her life to gaming.  "A lot of them are too flashy; I prefer chess. I have this set made from rose quartz and hematite back home.  I like the feel of something solid in my hands." Shepard raises one eyebrow, and Sam blushes as she realises that her latter remark could be taken any number of ways.  And then, she decides that she doesn't really care; if Shepard has taken it as a move, it's what Sam wants anyway, and maybe being careful isn't going to work.  Maybe it's time to be brave.  Nerves instantly damp her hands with sweat, and a new string of nervous tension begins to vibrate deep in her belly, in harmony with her already pulsing desire.

"Well, now that I know your weakness, we might have to try a game." There's laughter in Shepard's eyes as she makes the offer, and Sam grins back.

"I'd like that.  It'll be more fun than playing EDI; EDI doesn't sweat."

Shepard raises her eyebrows.  "You _sweat_ playing chess?"

Sam tries to keep her blush under control as she takes the opportunity to blatantly flirt, meeting Shepard's curious gaze with lidded eyes.  "Depends on how much fun we're having."

Shepard looks faintly perplexed at this.  "Sorry, Traynor, clearly we have very different views on what constitutes fun."

"I suppose you're one of those hiking, biking, climbing types, aren't you," Sam sighs mournfully.  "I had a girlfriend like that once.  Even listening to her talk about her hobbies was exhausting." Sam screws up her courage and tries again. "Not that I'm really complaining; her being so athletic was a big bonus in other aspects of our relationship." _Come on, Shepard, give me a hint, at least._

Shepard chuckles. "I get that. I could say the same about the couple of jarheads I've dated.  But it turned out that was the only good thing either of them had going for them.  Anyway, I haven't done a lot of recreational climbing, but hiking and biking, yeah, when I get the chance. I grew up aboard ships, so getting groundside to do something other than shoot things is always fun. You appreciate the opportunity more when it's scarce."

"So there's nowhere you can call home?" Sam asks, saddened by the notion, the melancholy eclipsing her frustration at the fact that somehow, Shepard has expressed an intimate confidence without giving away any clues about her sexuality. How _does_ she manage to play so hard to get without coming off as a complete tease?

"Home is my ship," Shepard answers Sam's question with a smile, a deep, genuine expression of happiness rather than a brave front, and good God, it makes her breathtaking. Sam's transfixed, hanging on every word as Shepard elaborates. "Home travels with me everywhere I go.  It's much more the people I'm with than the actual place, and I get a chance to expand my home every time we take on someone new."  She looks directly into Sam's eyes as she says this, and Sam realises with an electric jolt that she has already been added to Commander Shepard's concept of home, and a pleasurable warmth spreads through Sam's body at the understanding. _Now, if I could just narrow that down her concept of the bedroom..._

"That's really beautiful, Commander.  I never thought of it that way before." _Would it be too much to reach for her hand?_

"Yeah, well, spacers have a different view of the galaxy than dirtkissers," Shepard chuckles.  "We're generally much more aware of the temporary nature of things.  People who grow up planetside tend to have this notion of permanence, and... oh, hey, Liara!" Shepard breaks into a grin as the asari walks up to them. The commander pushes a chair out with her foot, and takes the asari's elbow solicitously to guide her into the seat.  "How're you feeling?"

Liara manages a small, wan smile.  "Like I was thrown into a wall by a two-ton juggernaut," she quips weakly. Shepard looks down to hide a grin, shaking her head in amusement, but it's clear from Liara's pale, drawn appearance and the riot of dark purple bruising across the left side of her face that she's still in some degree of discomfort.

"It's good to see you up and around, Liara," Sam offers, concerned even though the asari's arrival has derailed Sam's plan of attack somewhat. It's one thing to try your moves in a one-on-one conversation, quite another to have enough front to do it in a group chat. _Discretion is the better part of valour. She who fights and runs away, and all that._

"Thank you, Samantha," Liara replies with a smile.

"So what did Chakwas say?  Lay it on me," Shepard says with an exaggerated air of someone bracing themselves for bad news. Liara punches her lightly on the arm in rebuke.

"I have a sprained shoulder, a depressed cheekbone, and a mild concussion.  I'm restricted from shore party duty for five days." Liara sighs.  "I have to report to the medbay every morning for a week for cerebral scans.  Oh, and I have a checklist of questions that someone is supposed to ask me every few hours, to make sure I'm not suffering any memory loss." The asari sounds affronted by the idea, and Shepard chuckles softly.

"I'll do that, if you like."

"Chakwas is worrying over nothing, there's no need."

"Oh no you don't, you're always the first in line to scold me when I try to ignore the Doc."

"Shepard, really, I feel perfectly fine and I can remember everything.  I don't need a babysitter."

Shepard looks over at Traynor and winks conspiratorially, then transfers her attention back to the recalcitrant asari.  "If that's how this is going to be." She gets up, picking up her plate and shoving it into the recycle before tugging her light grey SA Navy hoodie straight.  "You sit here with Traynor for a second while I go talk to Chakwas."

Liara blanches.  "You wouldn't!"

"Watch me," Shepard retorts with a grin.  "After all the times you've dropped me in it for dodging my meds? Payback's a bitch, ain't it?" She takes three quick steps towards the medbay before Liara sighs.

"All right, Commander," she caves with a roll of her eyes, "you win."

Shepard turns back with a satisfied expression. "Send me the questions," she orders, and Liara shoots her a sidelong glance of exasperation before nodding acceptance.

"If it will make you happy, fine," she concedes ungraciously as she activates her omni-tool.  "Now, if you're done badgering me about my health, there's some data on that bomb that I think you should see."

"I'm not done badgering you, but I can wait to get my kicks - if you have more info on that bomb, I want to see it." Shepard offers Liara a hand to help her up, but the asari ignores it, getting to her feet and arching an expectant eyebrow marking at the commander.  Shepard shrugs, and turns back to Traynor.  "Thanks for the chat, Traynor. See what else you can ferret out of those turian communications, and keep me posted on the krogan chatter coming out of the Hollows and the Kelphic valley.  If some gung-ho idiot spots that bomb, this will get real ugly, real fast."

"Aye aye, Commander," Sam acknowledges, and she watches in disappointment as Shepard walks away with her asari friend in tow, heading to the executive officer's quarters opposite the medbay.  Another opportunity gone begging.  _Ah well, I'll get another chance - it's not like she can hide from me on a ship this small._   Sam finishes her lunch and clears her place, and just as she turns to leave the mess hall she's almost sure she hears a metallic thump emanate from the XO's office.  She waits for a moment, but the noise doesn't reoccur.  Shrugging it off, she heads to the elevator to get back to CIC.  She has work to do.


	2. The Shepard Defence

**The Shepard Defence**

 

_"Go and get cleaned up and have something to eat, Commander. Liara will be just fine."_

Chakwas' order is still ringing in Shepard's ears as she shuts off the shower and sucks in a deep breath of damp, steam-choked air.  The hot water has done wonders for the tension in her muscles, but the nagging pulse of worry for Liara in the back of her head is not feeling even remotely soothed. Intellectually she knows her lover is not seriously hurt, but the unsettling image of that brute backhanding Liara into the pillar is branded behind her eyelids.

Grabbing her towel she dries herself off roughly, and combs her hair out haphazardly with her fingers as she walks out into her cabin.  Dressing in BDU pants, a t-shirt and a grey SA Navy hoodie (her favoured N7 version is in Liara's cabin where she left it when they got the scramble call), she checks her messages and seeing nothing pressing decides to take the doctor's advice and grab a meal.

On the mess deck, she discovers to her chagrin that the only choice left on the autochef is cold pasta salad.  _Man up, Shepard, it won't kill you._ Taking a plate with a resigned sigh, she is about to head back to her cabin to eat when she spots Specialist Traynor sitting alone at the table closest to the medbay. Figuring that she could use the distraction, Shepard walks over to stand opposite the comm officer, frowning slightly as Traynor does not react to her presence.  A half-eaten sandwich rests on her plate, her chin is cupped in her hand, and her gaze is a thousand miles away. _Wonder who she's dreaming about._   "Hey, Traynor," Shepard says loudly, "is this seat taken?"

Traynor jumps, her gaze snapping back to reality and locking with Shepard's, and straightaway a flustered flush begins to bloom on her cheeks.

"Oh! Commander! Um, sure... I mean no, no, it's not taken, so please, yes, I..."

"I got it, Traynor, relax." Shepard laughs as she sits down. "I promise not to bite."

The specialist seems thrown by the joke, her blush deepening and her gaze scrambling to look anywhere but at Shepard as she fidgets, pressing her fist to her mouth and then fussing almost unconsciously with her sandwich.  Just as Shepard's about to enquire after her state of mind, she seems to reach some sort of decision.  "How did the mission go?" she asks, picking up her sandwich.

"Fine," Shepard replies, deciding to just go with it; Traynor is still playing catch-up with the situation in many respects, and the best thing Shepard can do for her is keep her encouraged and motivated. She takes a mouthful of her own food and grimaces; as she feared, it tastes like cardboard. Cold, wet cardboard.  "Ugh. God that's terrible." She harbours a moment of quiet envy of Traynor's lunch.  "Ah, we picked up the turians, as many of them as survived the crash at least. Garrus notched up a Harvester, with a little help from yours truly," _or, more accurately, with a grand-prix display of sniper skill and accuracy_ , "and Liara..." Shepard smiles as she recalls the stunning power Liara wielded to bring down the enemy heavies, and takes some more of her appalling lunch to disguise the shiver of desire the memory provokes, "Liara took out two Brutes in one warp detonation.  It was quite the display of biotic mastery." And then it had all gone pear-shaped; in her mind she sees the brute strike Liara, hears the flat, meaty thud of its fist connecting with Li's face.  "Course, that was when the third one smacked her into a concrete pillar." Shepard keeps her expression light with difficulty.  She tries to imagine how she'd tell this if Garrus had taken the hit, and she already knew he'd be fine, and manages a disparaging shrug.  "I had to get that one." She looks over at the medbay windows, which remain shuttered; Chakwas is still not finished dealing with Liara.

Traynor's eyes are wide pools of alarm. "Oh my God! Is Liara all right?"

"Yeah, she's OK, just a bit bruised, I think."  _What's taking so long in there?_   "She didn't hit her head too hard, but she did crack open her shoulder plate." _The Doc said she was fine, stop it._ "Chakwas is checking her out, but she's walking and talking." Shepard suddenly realises she's staring at the medbay, and pulls her gaze back to Traynor. "I wouldn't be joking about it yet otherwise."

"Of course, right.  Good. I'm glad Liara wasn't seriously hurt." And just that suddenly, Traynor's all flustered again.  Mentioning Liara's suddenly got her all wound up.  _I wonder if Traynor's crushing on her?  Not that I can really blame her if so._   Shepard holds Traynor's gaze for a moment, considering whether to probe, then thinks better of it, taking another forkful of pasta.  If there is an attraction there, Traynor can be relied upon to blunder into an admission in her own time, and Shepard doesn't want to make the comm specialist so uncomfortable that she can't function.

"Yeah." Shepard nods agreement. "Me too, Traynor, me too." _Change the subject, get her back onto comfortable topics_. "So, anything interesting happen up here while we were tangling with the heavy mob groundside?"

"Not much.  Reaper activity in the system seems to be confined to the surface of Tuchanka. Admiral Hackett has sent troops to secure the anti-orbital battery, but there's been no chatter on any known Cerberus communications channels. The turians are pretty excited about something, though.  Even before the mission there was a hell of a lot of traffic, and if anything, it's intensified."  Traynor finishes her mouthful of bread and cheese.  "Mmm, and the encryption was through the roof."

Shepard frowns, chewing the info over as she chews her food.  "You think they're not telling us everything?"

"I think that's a safe bet. I'll see what else I can dig up without messing with their encryptions.  Also, we got some data from Hackett on new Cerberus activity out in the Horsehead Nebula."

Shepard bites back the temptation to swear.  _Can we just do one damn thing at a time, Admiral?  Please?_ "Right, we'll need to sort that out, but only when we're done here. Securing this alliance with the krogan is our top priority right now."  She looks over at the medbay, still nothing.  _Come on, Li_. "Stick it on the galaxy map and I'll take a look later."

"Yes, ma'am. God, I love that map, it's beautiful.  Do you know how many strategy games are based on that interface?"

Shepard's surprised by the sudden change in Traynor's tone; confidence and authority have displaced her shyness.  Clearly this is a topic on which the specialist holds a passion, and it's an interest Shepard shares. "Yeah, I've seen quite a few.  You play strategy games?"

"A few." Traynor makes an awkward, deprecating gesture that gives away the lie.  "A lot of them are too flashy; I prefer chess. I have this set made from rose quartz and hematite back home.  I like the feel of something solid in my hands."

 Shepard arches an eyebrow at the unintentional double-entendre, and Traynor blushes again, dropping her gaze _.  No mention of Liara this time, so how come... oh.  Oh... wait a second._  A suspicion is beginning to form in Shepard's mind. Liara has frequently commented on her being somewhat slow on the uptake in recognising when others are attracted to her, even within her own species. With human men she feels this is not true, but with human women, Shepard has to admit her receptors are very definitely... she almost grins at the thought... uncalibrated.  _Well, this could be awkward.  Let's see if I'm imagining things._   She offers Traynor her most impish grin. "Well, now that I know your weakness, we might have to try a game."

Traynor grins back immediately. "I'd like that," she accepts immediately.  It'll be more fun than playing EDI; EDI doesn't sweat."

Shepard feels her eyebrows climbing in shock.  "You _sweat_ playing chess?"

Traynor meets her gaze with a look best described as smouldering.  "Depends on how much fun we're having."

 _Oh yeah, she's definitely hitting on me... aw shit.  How do I manage this? Play it cool, Shep, don't panic. You handled Kaidan, you can handle this._ "Uh, sorry, Traynor, clearly we have very different views on what constitutes fun."

"I suppose you're one of those hiking, biking, climbing types, aren't you?" Traynor asks.  "I had a girlfriend like that once.  Even listening to her talk about her hobbies was exhausting. Not that I'm really complaining," she flashes a coy look at Shepard, "her being so athletic was a big bonus in other aspects of our relationship."

 _OK, I got this_. Shepard forces out a chuckle. "I get that. I could say the same about the couple of jarheads I've dated.  But it turned out that was the only good thing either of them had going for them." _Should I have specified they were guys?  Too late now, I'll look like I'm covering_.  "Anyway, I haven't done a lot of recreational climbing, but hiking and biking, yeah, when I get the chance. I grew up aboard ships, so getting groundside to do something other than shoot things is always fun. You appreciate the opportunity more when it's scarce."

"So there's nowhere you can call home?" Traynor asks, and the question carries a genuine note of sorrow.

 "Home is my ship," Shepard replies reflexively, smiling as she thinks of the Normandy.  _My home is among the stars with the person I love most, and with my friends.  Yeah, I'll take that over a prefab on Intai'Sei any day_. "Home travels with me everywhere I go.  It's much more the people I'm with than the actual place, and I get a chance to expand my home every time we take on someone new." As she says it, she realises she's already come to consider Traynor a component of home; the comm specialist is endearing, and her naiveté reminds Shepard a little of Liara when she first joined the ship.

"That's really beautiful, Commander," the young officer breathes.  "I never thought of it that way before." Traynor's hand twitches, as though she might reach for Shepard's, and Shepard does her best to adjust her posture as casually as she can, pulling out of range.

"Yeah, well," she deflects, "spacers have a different view of the galaxy than dirtkissers.  We're generally much more aware of the temporary nature of things.  People who grow up planetside tend to have this notion of permanence, and... oh, hey, Liara!" Relief and happiness flood through her as the asari walks up.  _Thank God you're OK_.

Liara glances quickly at Traynor, then gives Shepard a look that makes the commander's abdomen tighten in anticipation.  _Is she jealous?  Oh hell, I think she might be.  God, please, I'll die happy if she is._ She meets the gaze, trying to convey a message without words.  _Save me, babe, preferably without crushing Traynor's head in a warp field, and I'll worship every inch of your body all night long to prove I'm all yours._ "How're you feeling?" is what she actually manages out loud.

"Like I was thrown into a wall by a two-ton juggernaut," Liara offers. She sounds tired, and she's pale, and the bruise on her cheek makes Shepard wish she could go back and smash the brute to pieces a few more times, but she's got her game, she'll be OK. Shepard looks down to hide a grin.

"It's good to see you up and around, Liara," Traynor offers, stymied but handling the setback with grace.

"Thank you, Samantha," Liara responds with a tight, forced smile. _Oh, hell yeah. Definitely jealous_.

"So what did Chakwas say?  Lay it on me," Shepard asks, playing up the concern. Liara punches her on the arm.

"I have a sprained shoulder, a depressed cheekbone, and a mild concussion.  I'm restricted from shore party duty for five days. I have to report to the medbay every morning for a week for cerebral scans.  Oh, and I have a checklist of questions that someone is supposed to ask me every few hours, to make sure I'm not suffering any memory loss." Her tone is so insulted Shepard can't help but laugh.

"I'll do that, if you like," Shepard volunteers.

"Chakwas is worrying over nothing, there's no need." Liara's eyes narrow slightly, and Shepard tries to keep a neutral expression.  Objecting to Chakwas's orders is not normally Liara's speed.  Acting on instinct, Shepard follows her lead, adopting the opposite stance.

"Oh no you don't, you're always the first in line to scold me when I try to ignore the Doc."

"Shepard, really, I feel perfectly fine and I can remember everything.  I don't need a babysitter."

 _I could kiss you, Li.  I_ will _kiss you, later._   Liara has engineered a perfect disengage. Buoyed with sudden glee, Shepard winks at Traynor.  "If that's how this is going to be." She gets up, shoves her plate into the recycle and tugs her hoodie straight.  "You sit here with Traynor for a second while I go talk to Chakwas."

Liara gapes at her.  "You wouldn't!"

"Watch me," Shepard threatens.  "After all the times you've dropped me in it for dodging my meds? Payback's a bitch, ain't it?"

"All right, Commander," Liara gives in with a roll of her eyes at Traynor as Shepard starts walking, "you win."

Shepard turns back. "Send me the questions," she instructs, only half of her dominant tone for show, and Liara throws a her a glare before nodding.

"If it will make you happy, fine." She activates her omni-tool for a moment.  "Now, if you're done badgering me about my health, there's some data on that bomb that I think you should see."

"I'm not done badgering you, but I can wait to get my kicks." _I can't actually - we really need to get to your cabin_."If you have more info on that bomb, I want to see it." Shepard offers Liara her hand to help her up, but Liara ignores it, getting up and cocking an expectant eyebrow marking.  Shepard shrugs.  "Uh, thanks for the chat, Traynor. See what else you can ferret out of those turian communications, and keep me posted on the krogan chatter coming out of the Hollows and the Kelphic valley.  If some gung-ho idiot spots that bomb, this will get real ugly, real fast."

"Aye aye, Commander," Traynor acknowledges. Shepard risks pinching Liara's sleeve, and pulling the asari along with her crosses the mess deck to Liara's cabin.

As soon as the door shuts, Liara smacks the lock control, then pushes Shepard backwards into the door, resting her hands against the cool metal on either side of Shepard's head and pressing the full length of her body against the commander's. "You're mine," Liara growls, and arousal howls through Shepard's nervous system, fierce and hot as the Normandy's afterburners.

"Oh, I know," she breathes in return, watching in fascination as Liara's eyes start to darken.  "Wow, you got all riled up like this because of _Traynor_? How hard did you hit your head?"

"Rachel," Liara whispers warningly, her mouth inches from Shepard's ear, and her warm breath sends a shudder all the way down Shepard's body.  Gripping Liara's upper arms, she pushes the asari's good left arm and gently supports her injured right, spinning them to reverse their positions.  Liara's armoured back hits the door with a clank, and Shepard moves her hands to cup Liara's face.  "I'm yours," she agrees, "and you're mine, and I promised you in my head that if you got me out of that conversation I'd worship every inch of your beautiful body.  Every. Single. Inch. So," she leans in until their foreheads touch, their lips bare millimetres apart, "where would you like me to start?"


	3. The T'Soni Counter Gambit

**The T'Soni Counter Gambit**

 

"There.  All finished." Chakwas offers Liara a comforting smile as she makes a few notes on her omni-tool.  Liara shifts her right arm gingerly, running the fingers of her left hand over the crack in her shoulder plate. "I imagine you'll need to replace that," the medic observes.

"I'll talk to Steve about it," Liara agrees.  "Am I free to go?"

"Yes, though I have some conditions."  Chakwas fixes her with a stern look.  "You are relieved of shore party duty for five days.  I expect to see you back here every morning for the next week for a cerebral scan.  And I've uploaded a list of questions to your omni-tool to check your memory, as a precaution with your concussion.  Please make sure that Shepard, or someone else, asks you them every few hours.  If you can't answer them, or otherwise feel sick or dizzy at any time, you come back here straightaway."

"Understood," Liara affirms reluctantly.  She's been hoping that there would be no need to involve Shepard in any aftercare - her lover already has so much to contend with, she does not need the added burden of Liara's injuries.  "May I still participate in exercise?"

Chakwas purses her lips.  "That rather depends on what you define as exercise.  You should refrain from sparring, running, or anything high-impact or involving weights, but if you're mindful of your injuries, certain other endorphin-releasing activities should be fine."  Chakwas winks, and Liara feels a blush heating her cheeks.  The doctor's inference is not exactly what she was thinking of, but it's good news nonetheless.

"Thank you, Karin.  I'll see you later."

"Take care, Liara.  I'll see you tomorrow morning if not before. And tell Shepard to take good care of you."

The doctor steps away to deal with her next patient.  Liara closes her eyes for a moment, taking stock.  Her whole body aches with fatigue, but the localised pain in her shoulder has been numbed by Karin's treatment. Her head feels tight, as though someone has tied a cord around it and is squeezing, and her cheek is throbbing, not painful since the analgesics kicked in, but she's aware of it. All in all, it could be a lot worse.

She doesn't really remember what happened.  There was a brief moment of triumph as she took down the two brutes, then Shepard's warning cry, an explosion of pain, and waking up flat on her back with Shepard kneeling over her, worry in her emerald green eyes.  Then Shepard's bare fingers stroking her crests gently, Shepard helping her up, and Shepard's strong grip round her hips and stomach, holding her steady as she vomited from the nausea the movement provoked.  _Not my finest hour, to be certain._   And back on the ship, Shepard holding her hand, hovering at her bedside until Chakwas had chased her out with the assurance that Liara was going to be fine. 

She needs to let Shepard know she's all right - the commander will not settle, will not believe the doctor's prognosis until she sees the evidence with her own eyes.  Liara understands - she'd be the same if their roles were reversed.  Besides, she feels tired and achy, and in spite of her reluctance to burden Shepard, the idea of persuading her beloved to spend a little time lavishing her with care and attention is appealing. _It's not as though Rachel doesn't need some down time too._

The medbay doors hiss open for her as she makes to leave, but the sudden sound of Shepard's voice floating in from the mess deck makes her pause just on the threshold.

"You play strategy games?"

"A few." The answering voice is female, human.  "A lot of them are too flashy..." _oh, that's Specialist Traynor_ , "I prefer chess. I have this set made from rose quartz and hematite back home.  I like the feel of something solid in my hands."

Liara frowns; she's not much of an expert on innuendo or chat-up lines, but that sounded distinctly layered in its meaning.  She's suspected for a while now that Traynor has a crush on Shepard.  _Well, it's not as though she is the only one, is it?_ But they've been circumspect about their relationship, not precisely hiding it, but not flaunting it either, and with Liara seldom having reason to visit the CIC, Traynor almost certainly has no idea that Shepard is involved with her.  Which presents something of a dilemma; Liara is not keen on sharing her personal business with everyone she meets, but she is even less keen on sharing Shepard.  Remaining where she is, feeling only slightly guilty, she continues to listen.

"Well, now that I know your weakness, we might have to try a game." The tone in which Shepard makes this invitation makes Liara shiver. Confident, challenging, and playful, with just a hint of devilry, the tone she uses to reduce Liara to a quivering mess of want and wanton. _The tone she used in bed last night while she took me... Oh Goddess, stop it_. The asari takes a deep breath, tries to reassure herself, tries to get her suddenly unruly libido under control.  She trusts Rachel implicitly, trusts the depth of the Commander's love and commitment, knows that there is no way Rachel would betray her.

"I'd like that," Traynor's enthusiasm is palpable.  "It'll be more fun than playing EDI; EDI doesn't sweat."

"You _sweat_ playing chess?" Shepard sounds surprised, caught off guard by an unexpected response.

"Depends on how much fun we're having," Traynor replies, and there's no possibility of misinterpretation any longer.  The specialist is definitely flirting with intent, and the surge of jealousy the realization provokes leaves Liara almost breathless _.  She's mine._ Only by a supreme act of will is she able to refrain from marching across the mess deck to unequivocally demonstrate to the comm officer just who Shepard's affections belong to.  Closing her eyes she takes another deep breath.  _Calm down,_ she chides herself.  _You have to handle this properly.  Traynor doesn't know, and making it a contest will be counterproductive.  She's attracted to Rachel, not you; she has to hear from Rachel that it's a lost cause. If you storm over there now, you will cause a scene, and gossip, and Rachel will not appreciate that.  You're the Shadow Broker - think of a subtle option._

"Uh, sorry, Traynor," Shepard is saying, "clearly we have very different views on what constitutes fun." Liara smiles as she recognises the attempt at a disengage.

"I suppose you're one of those hiking, biking, climbing types, aren't you?" Traynor enquires.  "I had a girlfriend like that once.  Even listening to her talk about her hobbies was exhausting. Not that I'm really complaining; her being so athletic was a big bonus in other aspects of our relationship."

Shepard laughs, and even though Liara can hear that it's forced, her body still responds, tormenting her with the tactile memory of her fingers exploring Rachel's sculpted muscles, her azure pulsing unmercifully in time with her heartbeat as her subconscious fixates on the idea of Shepard's athleticism. Liara bites her lip hard enough to draw blood as she listens for Shepard's reply.

"I get that. I could say the same about the couple of jarheads I've dated.  But it turned out that was the only good thing either of them had going for them. Anyway, I haven't done a lot of recreational climbing, but hiking and biking, yeah, when I get the chance. I grew up aboard ships, so getting groundside to do something other than shoot things is always fun. You appreciate the opportunity more when it's scarce." Shepard is definitely steering back to a more neutral course, but Liara notices now that there's a stress in her voice that's not normally there; subtle, well masked, but detectable to the lover who knows her so well.

"So there's nowhere you can call home?" Traynor asks, and the sadness in her voice gives Liara pause; Traynor may be flirting with Shepard, but she does at least seem to be interested on an emotional level rather than just a physical one. She is not looking for a conquest, but for a relationship, and somehow, that's more acceptable to Liara.  She still can't have Shepard, though, obviously.

 "Home is my ship," Shepard is saying, her tone filled with the warm pleasure that suffuses her whole being when she speaks of things close to her heart, the tone that makes Liara feel so cherished and loved, the tone of Rachel's inner voice in their melds, and the intimacy of that recollection sends chills chasing over Liara's skin. "Home travels with me everywhere I go.  It's much more the people I'm with than the actual place, and I get a chance to expand my home every time we take on someone new." As she speaks, Liara can no longer stand still; the need to be near her lover, touching her is now bordering on physical discomfort.  _Don't overdo this,_ she reminds herself as she steps out of the medbay, her body starting to ache with muscle fatigue again as soon as she moves. _You're the XO of the ship - you have many legitimate reasons for speaking to Shepard privately._

_Sure, and so many of them will be plausible when you're walking out of the medbay with a concussion._

Traynor is sitting opposite Shepard at the nearest table. "That's really beautiful, Commander," the young officer breathes.  "I never thought of it that way before." Traynor's hand moves, as though she might reach for Shepard's, and Shepard leans back in her seat, subtly pulling out of range. Seeing this interplay lends Liara a whole new wealth of context; Shepard very clearly wants out of this conversation.

"Yeah, well," Shepard deflects, "spacers have a different view of the galaxy than dirtkissers.  We're generally much more aware of the temporary nature of things.  People who grow up planetside tend to have this notion of permanence, and..." she looks up, sees Liara approaching, and a radiant grin lights up her whole face. "Oh, hey, Liara!"

Liara glances briefly at Traynor, then locks gazes with Shepard. The Commander's emerald eyes are sparkling with love and her expression broadcasts her relief at Liara's presence with such innocent fervour that Liara is hard pressed not to simply kiss her there and then, stake her claim and damn the consequences.  _Oh Goddess, Rachel, I want you._

"How are you feeling?" Shepard's voice permeates her awareness from very far away, and it takes her a moment to regroup, think of an appropriate response.

"Um... like I was thrown into a wall by a two-ton juggernaut?" she hazards, smiling as Shepard ducks her head to conceal a disproportionately amused grin.

It's good to see you up and around, Liara," Traynor pipes up, and even though there's nothing but earnest concern in her expression, Liara knows her responding smile is forced.  If she could spare the energy, she'd feel bad, but right now she doesn't have the bandwidth.

"Thank you, Samantha," she manages.

"So what did Chakwas say?  Lay it on me," Shepard asks with exaggerated concern, and inspiration strikes. Shepard's concern for her crew's welfare is legendary; all Liara has to do is tap into it. Elated, she delivers a mock punch of rebuke to Shepard's arm.

"I have a sprained shoulder, a depressed cheekbone, and a mild concussion.  I'm restricted from shore party duty for five days. I have to report to the medbay every morning for a week for cerebral scans.  Oh, and I have a checklist of questions that someone is supposed to ask me every few hours, to make sure I'm not suffering any memory loss." She does her best to sound mortified, and Shepard responds instantly.

"I'll do that, if you like?"

 _Don't make it too easy._ "Chakwas is worrying over nothing, there's no need." Liara wills Shepard to understand.  _Come on, I'm being you, you have to be me._   Shepard frowns at her in concern.

"Oh no you don't, you're always the first in line to scold me when I try to ignore the Doc."

 _Yes!_ Liara barely manages to mask her grin with a scowl. "Shepard, really, I feel perfectly fine and I can remember everything.  I don't need a babysitter."

Shepard regards her stoically for a moment, then winks at Traynor with outrageous excess.  "If that's how this is going to be." She gets up, shoves her plate into the recycle and tugs her hooded sweater straight; not her usual one, that's lying on Liara's bed where Liara had thrown it while getting changed for the mission.  "You sit here with Traynor for a second while I go talk to Chakwas."

Liara stares at her in mock shock.  "You wouldn't!"

"Watch me," Shepard threatens blithely.  "After all the times you've dropped me in it for dodging my meds? Payback's a bitch, ain't it?"

"All right, Commander," Liara huffs, rolling her eyes at Traynor as Shepard starts walking, "you win."

Shepard turns back. "Send me the questions," she instructs in her command-deck voice, and Liara throws her a glare before nodding.    

"If it will make you happy, fine." She activates her omni-tool for a moment. Time to close this out.  "Now, if you're done badgering me about my health, there's some data on that bomb that I think you should see."

Shepard nods decisively, a spark of desire lighting in her eyes that has Liara's barely controlled arousal slipping its restraints all over again. "I'm not done badgering you, but I can wait to get my kicks." _Oh really, Shepard? Somehow I doubt that_."If you have more info on that bomb, I want to see it." Shepard offers Liara her hand to help her up, but Liara ignores her, getting to her feet and lifting an eyebrow marking expectantly.  _Get rid of Traynor, Shepard._

Shepard turns to the comm specialist.  "Uh, thanks for the chat, Traynor. See what else you can ferret out of those turian communications, and keep me posted on the krogan chatter coming out of the Hollows and the Kelphic valley.  If some gung-ho idiot spots that bomb, this will get real ugly, real fast."

"Aye aye, Commander," Traynor acknowledges crisply.

Shepard turns on her heel, takes hold of Liara's sleeve, and pulls her across the mess deck to her cabin. Liara locks the door and pushes Shepard back against it, free to indulge her rioting emotions. Pressing her body close to the Commander's, every line and curve meeting its opposite, she braces herself against the door with an arm either side of the Commander's head, ignoring the bite of pain from her shoulder, ignoring everything except the burning need to possess Shepard and the warm rush of arousal pooling in her azure.  "You're mine," she snarls as she leans in close to Shepard's ear, finally able to vent her dark passion.

"Oh, I know," Shepard growls back, her cocky tone dripping with arousal and that devilish amusement that drives Liara wild. "Wow, you got all riled up like this because of _Traynor_? How hard did you hit your head?"

"Rachel," Liara whispers warningly, breathing in the scent of her lover's skin.  Shepard shivers, and then she moves, spinning them so that Liara ends up clattering back into the door, trapped in turn by Shepard's body pushing against hers. She loves Shepard's confidence, her dominance.

"I'm yours," Shepard affirms, "and you're mine, and I promised you in my head that if you got me out of that conversation I'd worship every inch of your beautiful body.  _Every_. _Single_. _Inch_. So," she leans closer until their foreheads meet, her mouth so close that Liara can almost taste her, "where would you like me to start?"

Liara grips the front of Shepard's hoodie and jerks her into a feral, uninhibited kiss that trips their meld instantaneously.  _Oh, Goddess, Rachel, please, take me here, against the door_ , Liara begs, and as Shepard's fingers tremble against her belt latch, the last coherent thought Liara manages is a single word.

_Checkmate._


End file.
